


Some Kinda Love

by thornfield_girl



Series: To Show That You're Home [4]
Category: Justified
Genre: Bathrooms, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Drunkenness, Fluff and Smut, Gay Bar, Happy, M/M, Sexy Wrestling, Shopping, Sloppy Makeouts, Texting, Valentine's Day, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornfield_girl/pseuds/thornfield_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim needs some help figuring something out, and he gets it.</p><p>Raylan and Boyd are super into each other. Like, really, a lot.</p><p>Also, Valentine's Day kind of sucks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentines Day! This was originally a Christmas fic, but I never finished it. It works better this way, I think. And also, it turned out way longer than I expected. So, bonus words!

Raylan is getting his shit together at his desk, trying to finish up some paperwork so he can get out on time, or as close as possible. It's Friday, and he's driving down to Harlan as soon as he leaves work. 

Boyd had been out of state most of the week on a job, so he hadn't stayed over in Lexington at all, which he normally did around mid-week, and Raylan is missing him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he offers up a little prayer that it's not a report on the fugitive he's been trying to find for the past several days. He checks the display, and it's Boyd.

"Hey," he says as he puts the phone to his ear. 

"Hey, Raylan," he returns, and Raylan can hear him smiling.

"I'm just about ready to go, you need me to pick anything up?"

"Well..." Boyd hesitates, and Raylan has a bad feeling.

"Please do not tell me you couldn't make it home for the weekend, Boyd."

"Oh no, I'm here. I can't wait to see you either. It's just... well... it looks like we're gonna have some company."

"What? What kind of company?" Raylan is scowling into the phone. He wants to lie around in bed all weekend with Boyd, maybe do a little hiking, eat whatever Boyd cooks, drink bourbon. 

Boyd makes a dismissive noise and says, "Raylan, is there any kind of company I could say is coming that you _wouldn't_ be bothered by?" 

He doesn't wait for a response before saying, "It's Neil. He needs to get out of Richmond for a couple days. That little boy broke his heart and he doesn't want to risk running into him, and he also can't stand to see Phoebe because she looks just like him, and tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, which you know I don’t care about and I know you don’t either, but you know how he is and-"

Raylan sighs noisily into the phone and says, "Fine. It's fine, Boyd." It's not really, and the thought of having that kid around the house all weekend kind of sets his teeth on edge, but Raylan has a soft spot for him. 

Boyd knows all this, and he says, "No it's not. But it's happening anyway, because how could I say no?"

"I get it," Raylan says. "I don't kick puppies either. When's he coming?"

"Late tonight. What are we gonna do with him all weekend, baby?"

"I know one thing we definitely won't be doing," Raylan says, grinning. "Not that he won't ask."

Boyd laughs and says, "Yeah. But seriously."

Raylan sighs again, but in resignation rather than annoyance this time. "We’ll think of something. We can... we’ll bring him up here and take him out drinking or something.”

“Are you suggesting we try to get him laid?”

“I certainly wasn’t envisioning us having any active role in that process,” Raylan says dryly, “but we could do the minimum and take him to a club."

Boyd is cracking up on the other end and Raylan is grinning as he signs a form and throws it in an interoffice envelope. "I'm on my way, Boyd. See you in a couple hours. I'll pick up some goddamn vodka and mixers for the boy. Anything you need while I'm there?"

"Just you, baby. Get a move on, I'm getting supper started."

The house is warm and smells like he remembers his gram's house smelling when he was a kid and they'd come over for Sunday dinner. He doesn't see Boyd anywhere on the first floor, and he checks the patio too, even though it's really too cold to be sitting out there. 

He glances at the stairs to the second floor, and a grin starts spreading across his face. He runs up the steps and finds Boyd sitting on the bed, dressed except for his bare feet, drinking whiskey. He has reading glasses on, and he looks up from an unwieldy biography of Lincoln when Raylan comes in. It might be the sexiest thing Raylan has ever seen. 

There's a glass on the nightstand on the other side of the bed with two inches of bourbon in it, so Raylan sits and pulls off his boots, then leans back next to Boyd and sips his drink. Only then does he say, "Hello," lean over and kiss him. 

"Hey. We got about twenty minutes before I gotta take that roast out."

"I don't feel like rushing anything. Let's just sit here. You can keep readin' your book about that Yankee scoundrel." Boyd snorts, and Raylan puts his drink on the table so he can lie down and rest his head on Boyd's thigh. Boyd strokes his hair, and Raylan falls asleep in about two minutes. 

Raylan wakes up to Boyd jostling his shoulder and saying in his ear, "Come on, time to eat some beef." He rolls over and blinks himself awake, then takes a deep breath and realizes he's starving. 

They eat dinner and talk about their weeks. Raylan tells him about the asshole who escaped from the prison transport bus and who's probably in goddamn Oklahoma by now. Boyd doesn't feel like talking much about the job he was on, since it was a routine highrise implosion, interesting to him and perhaps another explosives expert, but no one else. 

Instead, he tells him about Neil's drama, or what he's gleaned of it through texts. 

"He thought he was gonna move to fucking DC and marry the boy," Boyd says with a sigh. "He's crushed, Raylan. Fucking devastated." Boyd is smiling guiltily. "I hate to make fun of him, I really do."

Raylan laughs. "Maybe next time he'll pick someone old enough to shave."

"Which is what he really seems to prefer," Boyd says, "but the problem is that no one can take him for more than a night. He's cute enough, but goddamn he's annoying."

"You think he's cute, huh? You want me to make myself scarce tonight, Boyd? Maybe you want to throw him a pity fuck?" Raylan is eyeing him over their after dinner drinks and laughing at him with his eyes. 

"Jesus, Raylan. Shut up. If you want to get any tonight, I'd suggest you stop cock blocking yourself by talking about such things."

Raylan grins at him and says, "If I want to get any, I think we ought to pick up the pace. We could have company anytime now."

They go upstairs, leaving everything on the table to be dealt with later. Raylan is wound up tight from an entire week apart, and he pushes Boyd down on the bed before his clothes are even off. 

"Boyd," he pants, "I am gonna fuck your ass. I want inside you, boy, and I want it now. You got any issues with that?"

"If you think you can take it," Boyd says, getting into the spirit of things, "then by all means, go ahead, asshole."

Raylan crushes his mouth into Boyd's, struggling with his fly and shoving his pants down around his thighs. He tries to unzip his own pants, but Boyd pulls him down and over, gaining the advantage over him. 

"Maybe you're the one who's gonna get fucked, son," Boyd snarls, his pupils blown huge with lust. He takes care of Raylan's fly, and Raylan kicks his pants off the rest of the way. Whichever way this ends up going, he's fine with it. As long as he gets a little tussle in first. 

Boyd gets his own clothes off, and they're naked on the bed now, both in a defensive posture, eyeing the other up. 

Raylan moves first, grabbing at the back of Boyd's thigh, but Boyd gets his head down into the mattress, then leans in and says, "I'm in charge here." Raylan knows he has a ridiculous, fierce grin on his face, he can't seem to straighten it out. 

Raylan kicks out with his leg and knocks Boyd off balance, and he manages to get his head free. They grapple for a minute, and Raylan struggles to get back on top. Finally, he does, and he's holding Boyd's arms down hard, looming over him, still grinning. "Now you can fuck me," he breathes, and Boyd's eyes go wide. 

"You got it, Marshal," he replies, breathing hard through an open mouth. Raylan's grin gets even wider, and he laughs breathily. 

Boyd gets him ready, but he doesn't linger over foreplay. They're both charged up, they need this badly. Boyd fucks him something like ruthlessly, though Raylan knows he's never at a point where he won't stop if need be. He won't need to, though. He loves it, even thinks he could take more, but Boyd says he can't go there. He can't inflict real pain, and that's alright with Raylan. 

Raylan comes first, head thrown back into a pillow, crying out his pleasure in a strangled cry. Boyd pulls out after a moment, kneeling over Raylan and stroking himself. 

Raylan shakes his head, he wants more, wants Boyd inside him again. "Fuck my mouth, baby. I want you some more."

Boyd hesitates for a moment, then shrugs. Raylan pulls himself up on the headboard, and Boyd kneels in front of him. Raylan takes him in hand and guides him into his mouth, then pulls him in roughly by the hips. Boyd seems to understand what he wants, and obliges. He thrusts into his throat, and Raylan loves it, takes it without a fight now. 

Boyd comes quickly anyway, and when he does, his aggression dissipates immediately. He eases down to Raylan's side and takes his hand, stroking his sweaty arm lightly. He leans his head into Raylan's shoulder and closes his eyes. 

Raylan brings his hand up to brush the side of his face, then kisses the top of his head. "Thanks, Boyd," he says softly. "That was just what I needed." Boyd chuckles very quietly and leans into him harder. 

They shower together after a bit, then come downstairs to find the table cleared and the dishwasher running. Neil is sitting on the living room sofa, furiously typing something into his phone, but he looks up when they come in. 

"Hi guys," he says with a wan smile. "The door was unlocked and you didn't answer when I knocked, so I just came in. Guess you were in the shower. Hope that's okay."

Boyd sits down on the sofa, and Raylan takes the armchair. "Sure it is," Boyd says. "Thanks for doing the dishes, you really didn't have to do that."

Neil shrugs, and he looks so dejected that Raylan actually tries a cheerful tone as he says, "Hey, kid, it's gonna be nice having you around this weekend. We can go out for breakfast, and... I don't know, find something to do during the day, but I thought we could all go out tomorrow night."

Boyd gives Raylan a somewhat mocking look after this attempt, but Neil's face brightens a little. "Out? Like clubbing?" he says, smiling. 

"Well, we can hit a few bars, anyway. I ain't really big on dancing." He suppresses a shudder at the idea. 

"Oh, that's okay," Neil replies. "Sounds like fun."

Boyd suggests they play cards, so they play gin rummy while Neil recounts his tale of woe. He manages to inject a lot of drama into what seems to be a fairly typical breakup, but his sadness about it seems to be genuine. 

"The worst thing is that this probably screwed up everything with his parents," Neil says miserably. "I used to go over to their house with Phoebe at the holidays, and they invite me to stuff sometimes. They're like my family. Now they're probably going to stop doing that."

Boyd can't help rolling his eyes the third time this sentiment is expressed, and he says, "Look. He's the one who broke up with you. Phoebe's not mad at you, right? Why would their parents be? And hey, if you don't have anywhere to go next year for Christmas, you can come here."

Raylan cuts his eyes at Boyd, who studiously avoids them. They play a few more hands of the game, then Neil stumbles off to bed under the influence of grief, the long drive, and a great deal of vodka. 

The next morning, they go out for breakfast, and Neil says he wants to see Lexington. Raylan sees his relaxing Harlan weekend slipping away from him, but he also has no idea what the three of them could find to do in the country all day. 

As they walk out to the car, Raylan holds Boyd back and lets Neil walk ahead a bit. He gets close to Boyd's ear and says, "You do know that you owe me for this shit, right?"

Boyd nods quickly and says, "It doesn't even need to be said, darlin'."


	2. Between Thought and Expression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shocking discovery.

Raylan's apartment is in walking distance of downtown, so they park in his spot and walk to where the shops and restaurants are. Shopping is not an activity Raylan would put anywhere near the top of his list. He likes to look good, but he knows what he likes and what suits him. So he just buys lots of the same types of clothing, in slightly varying colors and patterns. 

Boyd pays more attention to what he wears, and Raylan does admire the way he puts himself together. He's got a style that's all his own, and that sits perfectly on him. But he never refers to shopping as if it were a leisure activity, and he certainly never asks Raylan to come along. 

Raylan comforts himself with the knowledge that at least he doesn't have to hold anyone's purse. 

They wander into an upscale men's clothing boutique, and Raylan stands close to the register, waiting. The young man working behind it glances over at him a few times and finally says, "Not doing any shopping today?" and offers a friendly smile. 

"Just waiting for my friends," he says, smiling back. The boy is fairly cute, and Raylan figures he might as well pass the time flirting. If Boyd catches him, he'll like it anyway. 

"You know," the boy says, coming around the counter, "I know you're not looking, but these jackets over here? Would look amazing on you." He eyes Raylan critically for a moment, then rifles through the jackets to find a size. 

"I'm really not in the market for new clothes today," Raylan says.

"Oh, I know," says the kid, "but would you do me a favor and try one on anyway? Please? I just want to see it on you. I think it would be perfect. My name's Brian, by the way."

"Alright, Brian," Raylan says, kind of into it now, because he's just noticed Boyd watching from across the room. "Since you asked so nice."

He takes the jacket and slips it on, then turns to look in the full-length mirror along the wall. It fits perfectly, and he does indeed look, well, kind of amazing. 

Brian lets out a low whistle and says, "That is your jacket. Your girlfriend will love it."

Raylan raises a wry eyebrow at him. He has to wonder how many straight guys would tag along on a shopping trip with his two gay friends. The boy is obviously fishing, but in a sort of ridiculous way. 

"I don't currently have a girlfriend," he says, pulling the jacket off and glancing at the tag. He winces, and hands it back to Brian. "And while that jacket was, in fact, everything you said it would be, I also don't currently have a spare $350."

Neil comes up to him at that moment and says, "Are you buying that jacket? I saw it on you, it looked sexy as hell."

Raylan sighs. "Nope. Not in the budget today. Or ever. You getting anything here?"

"Nah," Neil says. "I don't think I'm really buying today, just shopping."

Raylan tries to keep the expression of perplexed horror from his face as he looks at the kid. "Where's Boyd?" he asks. 

"He tried on a pair of pants, he should be up in a minute."

Boyd comes up shortly after that with the pants and a sweater. "I saw you trying that jacket on, Raylan. I mean, you look good in everything, so don't get me wrong, but that jacket looked like it was made just for you."

"Are you people trying to get Brian here his commission or something? I'm not buying the damn jacket."

Boyd walks over and pulls it from the rack. He holds it up and says, "Well, if you won't buy it, I'm buying it for you." He walks it over and lays it on the counter. Brian smiles at him, and then over at Raylan. 

"I don't need a new jacket," Raylan says quickly.

Boyd grins cheerfully at him and says, "I know."

Raylan walks over and pulls him away from the counter. "Boyd," he says quietly, "It's way too much. I appreciate the offer, but I don't need it."

Boyd shakes his head like Raylan doesn't understand anything. "I know you don't need it, Raylan. But I want you to have it. Because I know you liked it, and because it looked so goddamn good on you."

Raylan grinds his teeth and glares at him. "I am a grown man with a perfectly good job. I do not need someone buying my fucking clothes for me."

Boyd huffs, then says, "You're an idiot. I'm buying it anyway. I'll wear it if you don't." He pulls away and walks back to the counter. Raylan stares at him for a minute, then walks out of the store. He can see Boyd through the glass front, smiling and talking to Brian. Neil is standing a small distance away, chewing his nail and looking fretful. 

Boyd signs a slip and takes his purchases, then says one final thing to Brian that makes the boy burst out laughing. Then he walks toward the door, Neil following closely.

When they get outside, Boyd walks over and says, "Happy Valentine's Day, asshole," then hands him the bag.

Raylan blinks at him a few times, then takes it. "I thought we weren't doing that," he says.

Boyd sighs and answers with a totally straight face, "Yeah, we weren't. But then I saw you and that boy talking in there, and I feared I might lose you forever. I felt an offering was in order."

Raylan pushes down a grin, shrugs, and says, "He could probably get me a discount."

Boyd bumps his hip against Raylan and they start walking. Neil makes an exasperated sound and says, "Why do you guys fight like that?" He looks worried, and Raylan feels sort of bad. He didn't really have anything to get so annoyed about. 

Boyd laughs though, and says, "Kid, that ain't fighting. That's flirting."

Neil looks at him like he's crazy and says, "Since when do you say 'ain't'? You sound like my uncles these days, Boyd."

Boyd smiles, and Raylan can tell he didn't realize he was doing it, because he looks a little embarrassed. Raylan had noticed awhile back, but didn't want to call attention to it. He didn't want him to stop. 

They manage to kill most of the afternoon with the shopping excursion and lunch. Neil flops onto the sofa and pulls out his phone, ignoring them entirely, so Raylan pulls Boyd away into the bedroom.

"Raylan," Boyd whispers, "We absolutely cannot fuck with that boy ten feet away in the living room."

"Why? He won't mind. He'll just be glad we're making up after our 'fight.'" Raylan is tugging at his belt and trying to maneuver him onto the bed.

"I won't be able to get it up," Boyd laughs.

"We'll see about that," Raylan says, grinning. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Boyd on top of him. "Come on, Boyd. I owe you a gift now." He lies back and wraps his arms around him, and Boyd gives him a kiss. 

"A gift, huh? Well," Boyd says softly, "that's alright, then, I guess."

Raylan rolls him over and opens his jeans, leaning down to suck on his collarbone as he drags his fingers lightly over his groin. "It seems I've made a liar out of you," he says, nuzzling Boyd's neck. Boyd just makes a soft, helpless sound and hitches up into Raylan's hand. 

Raylan moves down to lick at his cock, teasing him until Boyd grabs at his hair and pulls hard enough to hurt. Then he takes him in all the way, going slow and gentle, letting up when he feels him getting close. 

He can feel the tension in Boyd's limbs as he fights his usual instinct for vocalization. He allows only quiet sighs and quick intakes of breath, and when he finally jerks his hips up, straining into Raylan's throat, he lets out a muffled grunt. 

Boyd's hand goes slack in Raylan's hair and lies there limply for a few seconds. Raylan is hard, but this being a gift to Boyd, he doesn't move. 

"Baby," Boyd says as his breathing returns to normal, "let me-"

"Nope." Raylan moves up to lie beside him. Happy Valentines Day," he says, winking. 

Boyd rolls over and slides his leg between Raylan's. Raylan groans quietly and pushes into it, then stills. Boyd kisses him and says, "You would deny me the chance to watch you get off? That ain't no gift, son."

Raylan laughs and buries his face in Boyd's hair. "Then just keep your leg there and keep talkin' like that Harlan boy." 

He moves against him and Boyd says, "I am that boy, Raylan. I always was, I just forgot for a spell."

"I know that," Raylan pants, moving faster. "Just a... coal-mining kid from the holler, ain't that right?"

"That's right, darlin'," Boyd whispers in his ear, breathing soft against him, "Nothin' but a hillbilly. Want to buy some meth?"

Raylan laughs again, clutching him tight and grinding into his thigh. "Ah, fuck," he moans.

"You're just a hill kid yourself, ain't you?" Boyd slides his hand down behind him, grasping at his ass and pulling him in tighter. "That's okay, it's our secret. You can kiss me when we're down in the dark, no one will know."

Raylan slides up quick along his skin and bites down on his shoulder, coming in sudden, jerky spasms, not making a sound. He relaxes as Boyd pulls his leg away and releases a breath that he realizes he's been holding too long. He feels light-headed as Boyd kisses him lightly on the lips. 

"I love you any way you are, Boyd, you know, right?" 

"I'm just who I am, Raylan. I love you too. Even as a Fed."

Raylan rests his head on Boyd's shoulder for a minute, then says, "We should probably get up, shouldn't we?"

"Not yet." They pull the covers up over them and drift off.

The light is dimmer in the room by the time they open their eyes, awoken by a loud knock at the bedroom door. 

"If you two old fucks have finished your afternoon nap, maybe we could go get some dinner?" Neil's voice calls from the other side. 

Boyd rubs at his face and grumbles, "Ain't very polite for someone who's imposing himself on our holiday weekend."

Raylan sighs. "Kids today have no respect." He gets up anyway and goes to run the water in the shower. They take turns cleaning up, and Boyd rummages in the closet for something to wear. 

"I should have brought something from home," he says. 

"What about the stuff you bought today?"

"Oh, you mean my new jacket?" Boyd answers breezily. "That could work."

"The hell you say," Raylan says severely. Boyd grins and starts to open the door with only his towel wrapped around him. "What are you doing? You trying to break the poor boy's heart?"

Boyd snorts and says, "Oh, he got over that awhile ago. He's moved on to you now, can't you tell?" He walks out to the living room and grabs the packages from the store. "Here," be says, handing him the jacket. "Wear this with those dark jeans."

"Jesus Christ, man. I do know how to dress myself." He pulls out the jeans anyway, and a black dress shirt. 

They eat at some place Neil found on the Internet, which he referred to as a "gastropub." Raylan rolled his eyes at the made-up word, but when the kid showed him the menu he thought it looked okay. 

Service is slow, and by the time they leave, Raylan is pretty sure he's heard about every single boy Neil has ever kissed, and it's late enough that they can justify heading to a bar. 

The bar is one that Raylan has actually been to, when he first returned to Kentucky. Things had felt like they were up in the air at the time, and had briefly considered being out to a degree, as he had been in Miami. Not with everyone at work, but selectively, and meeting men in town. He'd gotten freaked out after they started sending him down to Harlan so much, when it had started feeling like he was home for real. 

He hasn't been to a gay bar since the night he ran into Boyd. It wasn't ever something Raylan did to be social, to make friends. He only ever did it when he wanted to get laid. 

Before they go in, Boyd leans in close and says, "Show me what you used to do, Raylan."

Raylan frowns at him as says, "What the hell are you talking about, Boyd?"

"I'm saying, you and I aren't together for the next hour or so. I want to see what it looks like when you're cruising for men."

Raylan looks at him for a few moments, then smiles and shrugs. "Alright," he says. "But if I make you jealous, you gotta come over and dispatch with my suitor."

Boyd grins. "I think we understand each other, Raylan."

Neil is looking at them both with a sort of horrified expression on his face. "You guys really are assholes. You're gonna lead people on, thinking they have some kind of chance with Raylan, and then you come over and scare them just for flirting? That sucks. You already found someone, leave everyone else alone."

"Lighten up, Neil," Boyd says. "It's all in good fun. I wouldn't really hurt anyone."

Neil frowns at him and says, "I'm still trying to get used to you being someone who _could_ hurt a person."

Boyd sighs. "Yeah, yeah. Well, get used to it, I guess. You're safe, though. I won't kick your ass, I promise, alright?"

Neil huffs, then walks in ahead of them. Boyd takes a seat at the bar, while Raylan walks up some distance away, and leans in until he gets the bartender's attention. It doesn't take a great deal of time. 

Just for shits and giggles, he orders a Manhattan. He almost laughs after asking for it; he never drinks cocktails. He realizes that he's already back in the mindset of pretending to be someone else, after being in this place for five minutes. 

There are moments when he understands just how much of an asshole he really is, and this is one of them. He glances over at Boyd who is eyeing him with a great deal of amusement, so he sips his drink - which is far too sweet - and cases the room. 

Less than five minutes passes before a man comes up to stand next to him. He's there on the pretext of ordering a drink, but while he waits for the bartender to notice him, he leans next to Raylan and says, "Hey," with a friendly smile. 

"Hey yourself," he returns, offering him a small smile and putting a little heat into his eyes. The guy does a double take, like he never expected this kind of luck. He's not bad looking, though not really Raylan's type. He's tall, slightly burly, with a shaggy head of dark blonde curls. He hopes Boyd doesn't have to fight him, and has to push down a grin at the thought. 

The bartender is ignoring the guy while he chats with some kid at the other end of the bar, so Raylan waves his arm at him. He says something more to the kid, then pushes off the bar and walks towards them.

He comes over to Raylan and says, "Did you need something, hon?"

"My friend here wants to order a drink," he replies, gesturing at the guy. 

After he gets his drink, he turns to Raylan and says, "Thanks. That was really nice of you. I'm James." 

"Raylan," he says. "You here alone?"

James sighs and says, "Yeah. Trying to ignore Valentines Day. I just got out of a relationship about two weeks ago, so it pretty much sucks."

Raylan winces inwardly, and thinks about what Neil said. It really is a little bit shitty to use people for their own entertainment. 

"...you alone too?" James is asking. 

"Huh? Oh. Uh, no. Actually, I'm here with my boyfriend. He likes to watch people hit on me. I'm really sorry." Raylan grimaces, but James laughs. 

"That's cool. That's probably how he deals with having such a sexy boyfriend, without dissolving into a jealous puddle. You want me to play it up?"

Raylan grins. "If you feel like it, sure. But shouldn't you be out there looking for someone to salve your broken heart?"

James shrugs. "I think my heart probably needs a little more time. Other parts feel differently. But the night is young." He gets closer to Raylan and touches him on the shoulder. "How's that? Is he watching?"

Raylan laughs and replies, "I'm sure he is." He touches the hand that James is resting on the bar, stroking it lightly with his long, graceful fingers. "Hey," he says, as something occurs to him. "We're here with a friend who also just got dumped. Maybe you'd like to meet him."

"Sure," James replies. "Is he anything like you?"

"Nope," Raylan says, "Not in the slightest. But he's sorta cute, and he's a real nice guy."

As if conjured out of thin air, Neil appears next to them a moment later, arms crossed and glaring at Raylan.

"Well, hey, Neil," he says calmly. "This is James."

"Hi James," Neil says, the turns back to Raylan. "Have you seen your boyfriend lately? I can't find him."

James grins and leans back on the bar, away from Raylan. 

"He's right over there, kid," Raylan says, pointing. "In plain view, now looking extremely irritated with you."

James looks over where he pointed, gives Boyd a little wave, then back at Raylan. "Damn," he says. "He's sexy too. How come I've never seen either of you in here?"

"Well," Raylan says, "we don't really go out much. And he lives in Harlan."

"No shit? Jesus. Why?"

"It's where we're from." He glances over to see Boyd walking towards them. "We grew up there together."

Boyd comes up and stands beside Raylan. He looks at James and holds out his hand, saying, "Hello. I'm Boyd."

"Raylan's boyfriend. Yeah. Sorry your little game got busted up."

Boyd laughs and says, "Oh, that's alright. It was fun while it lasted." He turns to Neil and says, "Remember how I said I wouldn't kick your ass? You putting that to the test already?"

Neil just rolls his eyes, and Raylan introduces him to James. Boyd pulls Raylan away, back to where he'd been leaning against the wall. 

"What the hell are you drinking, Raylan?" Boyd asks, looking at him like he's lost his mind. 

"Surely you can recognize a Manhattan," Raylan replies, plucking the maraschino cherry out and holding it in front of Boyd's face. 

Boyd shakes his head, but eventually opens his mouth and lets Raylan toss it in. "You're like an onion, darlin'," Boyd says. 

They settle in and watch all the men milling around, circling each other, laughing. "You miss this kind of thing?" Raylan asks. He sometimes wonders about Boyd being alone so much of the time, down in Harlan. 

Boyd smiles crookedly at him, then replies, "Not really. Although I am having a good time. You?"

Raylan hesitates. He feels like he never was any part of this, just a tourist, so there's nothing to miss except for the anonymous sex. And he doesn't really miss that at all. He feels something like regret, though, and he doesn't quite know how to put it in words. 

"In a way," he says carefully. "Maybe you and I can come back on our own some other weekend. Would that be alright?"

Boyd doesn't say anything for awhile. He just leans his shoulder into Raylan and nods. Raylan puts an arm around his shoulders, and he sighs contentedly. 

After five minutes or so passes, Neil comes walking up. "No dice." He hands Raylan a piece of paper. "He said if you and Boyd ever feel like 'hanging out,' to give him a call." The boy isn't quite pouting, but it's close. 

Raylan glances over at the bar. James catches his eye and gives him a little palms up gesture and a sheepish grin. Raylan rolls his eyes, but sticks the paper in his pocket anyway. He still feels a little unlike himself, and anyway, you never know.

"I'm sorry, kid," Boyd says, clapping him on the arm. "But look, the place is getting crowded. Don't give up now."

Neil makes an annoyed face and says, "Could you both stop calling me that, do you think? I know I look young, but I'm almost 30, you know. And I know you think I'm ridiculous, but I'm not fucking stupid."

Boyd is staring at him, a concerned frown on his face. "I don't think you're stupid, Neil. You think I'd have stayed friends with you all this time if I did? Come on," he says, "we're just here to have fun. It's just one guy, there are plenty others. Just look."

Neil shakes his head, looking deflated after his little outburst. "I don't think I'm ready. Can we get out of here?"

"Sure," Raylan says, putting his still mostly full glass on the ledge behind him. "You want to go eat some greasy food and drink cheap beer?"

Neil smiles gratefully at him. "That is exactly what I want." He looks at Boyd. "Okay?"

Boyd looks amused and says, "Of course. Lead the way, Raylan."

They walk a few blocks before Raylan suddenly stops and says, "Here. I eat lunch here sometimes. It's terrible, but cheap and quiet."

They enter the bar - more of a tavern, really - and look around. It's about half-empty, mostly populated by baseball capped college-aged boys, and about half as many girls. A waitress walks by and tells them to sit anywhere they like, and she'll be by. 

Neil looks a little apprehensive, and says quietly, "This looks like the kind of place guys like me get beat up. You know that, don't you?"

Raylan says, "Well, then, I guess you'll get a chance to see Boyd do his thing."

Boyd shoots him a look as they sit down at a table in the corner. "Nobody's getting beat up. Quit the drama queen bullshit, it's just a bunch of frat boys eating potato skins."

They order a pitcher of Miller Lite and some nachos. Raylan excuses himself and heads to the men's room to take a piss. 

On the way back, he happens to look over as he passes the bar, checking to see if he knows the bartender. He doesn't - it's some young guy he doesn't recognize - but sitting at the end of the bar is someone extremely familiar, hunched over a glass of something brown.

He walks over and slides onto the stool next to him. "Tim?" he says, "You okay, man?"

Tim looks up, a little bleary-eyed, then frowns. "Raylan. What the hell are you doing here? I thought you'd be off having your little Valentines celebration in Harlan."

"Plans changed. You remember Boyd's friend Neil?"

"Yeah," Tim says, trying to blink a little clarity into his eyes. "What about him?"

Raylan points over to the table where there sitting and says, "He's visiting. Nursing a broken heart. You want to come sit with us?"

Tim looks hesitant for a moment, then shrugs. "Why not?" He picks up his drink and stands, still steady enough, Raylan notes.

They walk over and Boyd's face opens in a wide grin. "Timothy! What a surprise."

"Boyd," Tim says, pulling out a chair. He sits heavily and takes a pull from his glass. 

"Oh, now, boys," Boyd says, "Don't tell me we got two sad sack motherfuckers at the table." 

Almost simultaneously, Tim and Neil say, "Fuck you" to Boyd, and Raylan laughs sharply. 

Tim scowls at Raylan and says, "I don't recall him being this much of an asshole when I first met him. You're a terrible influence."

"I won't deny it," Raylan says, shoving some chips into his mouth. "What's your problem, anyways? Please do not tell me you're sad about bein' single on this bullshit holiday."

"Easy for you to say," Tim grumbles, and Raylan shakes his head in wonder. 

Neil nods in agreement, and says, "You should hear what these two smug jerks did at the last bar we went to." 

Neil tells the story to a smirking, falsely indignant, and increasingly intoxicated Tim as they finish off the nachos and two more pitchers of beer. 

Tim is giving Raylan a hard time now, telling him how Judge Reardon asks for gossip about him every time he sees him.

Raylan says, "Well, there ain't any gossip, is there? You should tell that old prick to mind his own business anyway."

"Raylan, it's your own fault, you know. If you'd told everyone you liked dudes from the start, no one would have blinked an eye. Except for anyone acquainted with the Crowders of Harlan, I guess." 

Tim is grinning now. He thinks Raylan's sketchy hillbilly past is hilarious, and the fact that he's shacked up with his old hillbilly-turned-citified homo boyfriend even funnier. 

Raylan gives him a barely tolerant look and says, "Got it out of your system yet? Anything else you find amusing about me that you feel like expounding upon?"

Boyd says, "He has a point, darlin'." He turns to Tim and says, "Don't let him give you a hard time just because he was chickenshit."

Raylan looks indignant and says, "Me! He's the one casting aspersions on your family of origin, Boyd."

"Well, Raylan," Boyd says, grinning, "I had no idea my family's honor was so important to you. Thank you, baby. Timothy, where we grew up, you just don't talk shit about a man's family. Raylan here knows that, and he realizes that it's his duty, as my life partner, to take on my battles whenever called to do so."

Boyd is almost cracking up, barely holding back, but when Raylan murmurs, "I know that's right," he busts. And then Raylan does too, because the idea of defending the Crowders, to anyone, is utterly absurd. 

"Jesus Christ," Tim mutters as they laugh, "Goddamn hillbillies."

At one point, Raylan decides it's a good idea for him and Boyd to challenge some college boys to a game of pool, and they make their way over to the tables. As it turns out, the boys are even drunker than they are, so they win the first one, but by a slim margin. They put some money on the second game and lose, and then lose again. 

"I believe it's time to cut our losses, baby," Boyd says, drawing bug-eyes from the frat boys. Raylan figures that's right, and they return to the table to find a fresh pitcher of beer, but empty chairs. 

"They musta gone to take a piss," Boyd says. 

Raylan snickers. "They had to go together, like girls do."

Boyd's laughing, and Raylan realizes they're both pretty drunk. Nevertheless, he pours them each some more of the beer. 

"I'll need to go do that myself," Raylan says. "After they get back."

"Me too," Boyd says. "But we'll go separately. Like men."

"That's right," Raylan agrees.

He drains his glass of beer, and now he really does have to piss. It occurs to him that they're taking way too long to return.

"I wonder if one of them is puking in there," he says. He thinks it's a reasonable theory, and he gets up. "Imma go check."

"Okay, darlin'" Boyd says, picking up his glass. "Hurry up, I gotta go too."

As soon as he opens the door, he figures he must have been right, because the first thing he hears is a pained-sounding groan coming from one of the stalls. He sort of laughs to himself, thinking whichever one it is, brought it on himself. He walks over to a urinal and starts to unzip, then hears a noise that sounds like something else entirely. 

It's a muffled sound, like someone's mouth is being covered, and it does not sound a bit like puking. Shortly after, he hears a shushing noise, and all sound and movement stops. 

Eyes wide, Raylan turns to the closed stall and bends down to look underneath. There are two pairs of feet, and he definitely recognizes Tim's boots - they're the only thing he ever wears on his feet. What the absolute _fuck_ , he thinks. 

He calls out in the most reasonable voice possible, "It's just me. But you best get the fuck outta there now before it's someone else."

The door opens and the two of them stumble out, tripping over each other's feet. Tim giggles, but his face sobers when he looks at Raylan. Neil is looking a little shamefaced, and Raylan grabs him by the shoulder of his jacket. 

"You're the one who was so afraid of getting your ass kicked here, then you go and do this?" Neil drops his face into his hands and makes a desperate, humiliated sound.

He grabs Tim by the back of the shirt and hauls him over, pushing him against the stall door so he can stay upright. "How drunk are you?" Raylan asks, but the question is pointless, because Tim can barely find his footing, and the beer and whiskey fumes are coming off him in waves. 

Raylan points at Neil and says, "You should know better. Look how fucked up he is, Jesus Christ." He looks at Tim again and says, "Come on. We're taking you home."

"I'm fine, Raylan..." Tim slurs. "Where's your holiday spirit?"

"How much holiday spirit do you think those frat boys would have had if they'd walked in on that? What's wrong with you? Why were you even... never mind. Let's go."

He stalks out into the bar, both of them following quietly. He gives Boyd a significant glare, and as they pass the table, he leans down and growls, "Pay the tab and meet us outside." He starts to walk away, then says over his shoulder, "Please." 

Out in the cold air, Tim seems to revive a bit, and he says, "I wasn't ready to go, Raylan."

"You're beyond ready, Tim. Way beyond. Trust me."

Tim looks like he wants to argue, but instead leans up against Neil and closes his eyes. He stands up straight as Boyd comes through the door, and Boyd doesn't seem to have noticed anything. He's just looking irritated with Raylan, and he says, "What the fuck happened?"

Raylan looks at Tim, then back at Boyd. "I ain't sure I can speak coherently after the shock I've just sustained."

Raylan plans to explain as soon as they're on their way, but there's really no need, because Tim has Neil pushed against the outside wall of the bar, and they're making out again.

Boyd observes this behavior for a few moments without comment, then turns to look at Raylan. "Should we do something about this?"

Raylan waits a few beats, then says, "We could film it, I suppose. Gimme your phone."

"Raylan," Boyd says, laughing, "Tim very well may regret this in the morning."

"Well, I would certainly think so. If he even remembers it." He pulls Tim back by the shoulder. "Quit it," he snaps. "None of us is in any shape to drive you home, so you'll have to crash at our place."

"In Harlan?" Tim asks, nonsensically.

"Didn't I just say I can't drive? My apartment, dumbass."

"But you said... whatever. I'll be fine to drive, my car's just around the-"

"Are you fucking serious?" Raylan stares at him for a moment, feeling a bit concerned about what could have happened if they hadn't been there. He wonders if Tim does this all the time. 

The bar is very close to Raylan's place, only about three blocks, and it feels like they barely make it. They trudge up the stairs, and Neil flops down on the couch as soon as they get inside. Tim practically falls onto the cushion next to him and lays his head in the boy's lap.

Raylan and Boyd look at each other in bewilderment, and Boyd says, "Well, shit." Raylan can only nod in agreement, and he goes to find an extra blanket for Tim to use. When he comes back, Tim is clearly unconscious, snoring with his mouth halfway open.

Neil looks up and says, "He's so cute. I would have hit on him last time, but I thought he was straight."

Raylan sighs and shakes Tim on the shoulder. He groans and puts a hand over the side of his face that's not pressed into Neil's pants. Raylan says, "I don't know what he is, except at the moment, extremely wasted. Jesus, did you roofie him?"

Neil gives him an affronted look and starts to answer, but Raylan says, "Kidding. It's a joke. But listen, you should go to bed. Alone."

The apartment has a tiny second bedroom where Raylan keeps his work stuff and a few boxes of personal things he hasn't felt like dealing with. There's a futon in there that Neil can sleep on.

Neil's face splits into a wide smile, and Raylan says, "Neil. If you and him end up with your clothes off tonight, I guarantee he's never gonna speak to you again." 

Neil nods quickly and looks back down at the man in his lap. "He's the one who started it. I had no idea."

"Okay. He wanted to do it, but that don't mean he'll admit that tomorrow." Raylan pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "I don't know what his deal is," he says, "but whatever it is, at this point he needs to be falling down drunk to let anyone know about it."

"Okay," Neil says. "He's so cute though, isn't he?"

Raylan looks at Tim, passed out and drooling on Neil's leg. "Adorable. Until he pukes on you."

Neil eases himself out from under him, looks down at him once with the kind of affection a little girl might regard a mangy old cat, then goes into his bedroom. 

Raylan pushes Tim upright, brings him some water, pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, and sits next to him as he hangs his head in his hands. 

"Shit, man," Tim mumbles, "I can't remember the last time I drank so much."

Raylan picks up the glass of water and pushes it on him, then asks, "Well, why the hell did you? It's just fucking Valentines Day."

"Yeah... I don't know... I just wanted..." Tim hands the water back and lies down. "I just want to go to sleep."

"Tim. You can't just pretend all that didn't happen. And you can't act like an asshole to Neil in the morning. This ain't his fault."

"My fault," Tim mutters, "I know. All my fault..." He's already pretty much asleep by the time he stops talking, and Raylan throws the blanket over him. He can only pray he won't vomit on the couch.

Raylan goes into his room to find Boyd sitting up against the headboard with a rather dark look on his face.

"What do you think that's all about?" Boyd asks, as soon as the door is closed.

Raylan shrugs, slipping off the new jacket and hanging it over a chair. "Who knows? I told you a long time ago I couldn't get a read on him."

After a long pause, Boyd says, "Neil should stay the hell away from him. This is the last thing he needs right now."

"It's not really our business, Boyd. And anyway... you don't know that it couldn't turn out to be something good. You helped me."

"Raylan, that's you and me. You gonna compare their sordid little bathroom make out session to when we found each other again? I don't think that boy's in any shape to take on some messy closet case just now. Do you?"

Raylan purses his lips and looks away as he slips out of his jeans. Boyd sighs noisily and says, "And besides. You weren't _that_ bad. You shaped up right quick." He reaches up to take Raylan's hand, pulling him down onto the bed.

"Anyway," Raylan says softly, laying his head up close to Boyd's, "we don't really know what this is. I know nothing about Tim's personal life. And again - it ain't any of our business."

"Did he tell you anything out there?" Boyd asks.

"Just that it's all his fault," Raylan replies, rolling his eyes. 

"Well," Boyd says, "Not all. Neil should know better."

"That's just what I told him. Jesus fucking Christ, this is a weird situation." He kisses Boyd goodnight and switches off the light. He's passed out in minutes. 

Tim is not on the living room sofa when they come out at just after eight the next morning. Neither is he in the bathroom, or the kitchen. Raylan has a feeling he knows exactly where he is, and he's not sure whether to laugh or be concerned. 

Boyd has a resigned expression on his face as he makes a pot of coffee. They don't talk as they wait for it to brew; neither of them are much good before mid-morning anyway, so they mostly leave one another be, except for screwing. 

They're on their second cups when Neil comes blinking into the sunlight-filled kitchen, pours himself some coffee and sits down with them. 

"Everything is fine," he says, before either of them can speak. "I heard him puking in the bathroom last night so I got him some water. He told me he was sorry for being such a mess, so I told him it was fine, and then he followed me into my room instead of going back to the couch. Nothing happened."

"And how is he acting this morning?" Raylan asks.

"He was still asleep when I got up."

After a few minutes pass, they hear the shower start to run. Boyd starts cooking up a large amount of bacon and scrambled eggs, and eventually Tim stumbles to the kitchen, holding his head. He drops heavily into a chair, as if his legs won't hold him up anymore, and puts his head on his folded arms. 

"Would you like some coffee, Tim?" Raylan asks with neutral courtesy. Tim groans weakly, and Raylan takes that as a yes. 

Boyd pushes a plate of eggs and toast at him, and he looks a little green, but mumbles, "Thanks." He hasn't looked in Neil's direction even once since entering the room. He eats a few bites, then pauses, wipes at his mouth and pushes the plate away. 

He gets up carefully and says, "Thanks for the place to crash. I think I need to get home and sleep in my own bed for awhile." His eyes flit nervously over to Neil, then back down to the floor. "I'll see you Monday, Raylan." 

He sort of waves in Neil's direction and leaves as quickly as possible. Boyd's face darkens, and he follows him out the door.

Raylan regards Neil for a few seconds, then says, "You okay? That was kinda fucked up."

"Last night was fun," he says, smiling crookedly. "I never converted anyone before." 

Raylan cocks an eyebrow and says, "You know that's bullshit, right?"

Neil sighs, "Of course I do. Leave my fantasies alone, Raylan. I didn't cry myself to sleep for the first time in a week."

"You might have enjoyed yourself, but you gotta know he won't be taking any of this so lightly. Either he's gonna hate you, or he's gonna imprint on you like a damn duckling."

Neil's browsing on his phone and doesn't look up, but he tilts his head and says, "Sounds like you know what you're talking about."

Raylan picks up his plate and stands. He replies, "Me and Boyd imprinted on each other a hell of a long time ago. It worked out fine, but it took twenty years and a lot of fucking grief. Just watch yourself, kid, that's all I'm saying."

Neil nods, then heads off to take a shower. Boyd comes back in a minute later, obviously agitated.

Raylan frowns and asks, "Did you talk to him?"

"I did," Boyd replies, "But I'm not sure I know any more than I did last night."

Raylan frowns and asks, "Well, what did he tell you?"

Boyd shakes his head and says, "He told me he never even thought about a guy before. And then last night he was drunk as shit, and Neil told him how fucking cute he thought he was, and Tim thought, what the hell, why not give it a go."

Raylan stares at him for at least thirty seconds. Boyd's just looking at him neutrally, as if trying hard not to offer any commentary on this statement. Then Raylan busts out laughing and says, "Who does that?"

Boyd laughs too, shrugs and says, "I don't know. Girls?"

Raylan is still laughing, but Boyd says, "He's lying, Raylan. Maybe to himself."

Raylan nods. "I'll try talking to him, get him to go to lunch or something."

Neil eventually comes out of the bathroom in jeans and a t-shirt, his straw-colored hair sticking up where he dried it with a towel. He says, "So... I guess you guys probably want me out of your hair pretty soon, huh?"

Boyd starts to answer, carefully, and Raylan cuts him off. "You're okay. Stay as long as you need to."

Boyd stares at him as if he's lost his damn mind, but Neil gives him a look of such surprised gratitude that Raylan can't help smiling back. He'd had no idea he was going to say that, and might now be regretting it slightly. 

"Listen," Boyd says, "of course you can stay. If you want. You can't hide here forever, though." He laughs and says, "I mean, how many country boys do you think you can turn, son?"

Neil's drops his head into his hands and groans. "I told you, he started it. I mean, we just kissed, mostly, but he said he-" Neil's phone pings twice and he glances at it. His eyes go wide and he looks back up at them. "He texted me. Oh Raylan, he _is_ a duckling! What should I do?"

Boyd gives Raylan an amused look and says, "Yeah, Raylan. What should he do about his duckling?"

"Shit, how should I know? What do you want to do? You want to fuck him? Go for it. He's a grown man. Jesus Christ. Just don't expect much from him. You're the one who's gonna get hurt here, if you end up wanting more than he's able to give you."

Boyd shoots him a look, and Raylan's pretty sure he knows what he's thinking about. After Neil wanders off to text Tim back, Raylan says, "I never made any promises to anyone, you know. I never acted like I had anything more to offer than I did."

Boyd walks over and puts his hands on Raylan's waist. Raylan inclines his head and kisses Boyd's neck. 

Boyd's eyes drift shut and he lets the breath from his lungs into Raylan's hair. 

"I know, Raylan. I don't think that. And I also know that you thought of yourself in a way that was not entirely accurate, maybe because you were afraid of it."

"You don't have to tell me, Boyd." Raylan is still kissing his neck in between sentences, and pushes forward so Boyd leans back onto the counter. "I know exactly what I was doing then, and I know it was making me unhappy, and you picked me up and put me back together." He hooks a few fingers into the front of Boyd's jeans. "I owe you a debt of gratitude, darlin'. I know that."

Boyd draws a sharp breath and kisses him softly. Raylan is pressing into his thigh, not making any secret of his desire. "Raylan," Boyd says in a calm voice that Raylan knows is a damn lie, "You don't owe me anything. You already gave me plenty."

Raylan pulls him by the wrist past the living room where Neil is sitting with his phone, and into their room. Boyd can say all he wants that Raylan doesn't owe him anything, but Raylan will never believe it in a hundred years. He's sure he'll never be able to return that debt, but he intends to keep trying. 

After, when Boyd is tracing his fingers through the sweat on his chest, Raylan asks, "So, was that all you and Tim talked about? You were gone awhile."

"Well," Boyd replies, leaning down to kiss his shoulder, "I told him Neil just got out of a relationship-"

"Of four months," Raylan puts in.

"- and that he should keep that in mind." Boyd says, ignoring him. "And also, that Neil is one of my closest friends and I am quite protective of him, and he saw what I did to Johnny's face."

"Jesus, Boyd."

"Empty threats, Raylan, don't worry. I don't need to go to prison for assaulting a federal officer."

Raylan huffs a sigh and says, "You know, I understand you feel protective, but try to remember that you ain't his daddy. If he gets his heart stomped on accidentally, that's just the way it goes."

"Yeah." Boyd doesn't say anything else, just lays his head down on Raylan's shoulder for awhile. 

“We ought to think about heading back to Harlan soon,” Raylan says after ten minutes or so. 

“You really want to?” Boyd asks. “You have to work tomorrow anyway. Wouldn’t it be easier to just stay?” 

Raylan sighs. “I guess.” He presses his face into Boyd’s arm and makes a frustrated noise. “I really wanted to spend the weekend doing nothing but fucking, eating and sleeping.”

“There’s always next weekend, baby. Don’t tell me you got caught up in the Valentine’s hype.”

“No, of course not,” Raylan says. He didn’t. He really didn’t but for some reason he knows he sounded unconvincing. “I just missed you ‘cause I didn’t see you all week.”

Raylan sits up and reaches for his clothes, discarded in a pile beside the bed. He leaves Boyd still lying naked in bed and walks into the living room. Neil is sitting on the sofa with his head resting facedown on his arm. Raylan was going to get some water, but he goes over and sits beside him. “What’s up, kid? I mean, Neil. Sorry.”

“I’m an idiot, that’s what’s up. It’s not the duckling thing. It’s the other thing.” He picks up his phone and hands it to Raylan. 

Raylan scrolls through the series of texts between Neil and Tim, and he couldn’t say that he feels too surprised about the exchange. Tim is sorry, he made a mistake, he was super drunk, etc. Didn’t mean to to cause any pain. He looks up at Neil and says, “This is not about you. This has nothing to do with you. You have to know that.”

“I know, Raylan, but it doesn’t make me feel any less stupid. And I don’t even know what I was thinking anyway. I live in Richmond for God’s sake. I guess I just wanted him to like me. I don’t know.”

“Kid... shit, I’m sorry, it’s habit.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I actually kind of like it, I was just in a pissy mood last night.”

“Alright. Look, I’m sure he did like you. Does like you. But he’s just fucked up right now. That ain’t anything you need to be messing with. He can’t be with anyone until he figures his shit out.”

Neil looks at him for a few moments, like he wants to ask him something, then looks away.

“Go ahead,” Raylan says. “You can ask.”

Neil bunches his shoulders up like he’s cold or something, then says, “I don’t know. I was out since I was in 8th grade, because I literally could not be in. Kids always called me a fag even back in elementary school. They just knew. So like... I can’t relate at all. I just don’t know what that’s like. In a way, I feel jealous of those people, because they didn’t have to deal with all the shit I had to deal with. But then, in another way, it kind of sucks. Because you have to surprise people. Maybe disappoint them.”

Raylan lets out a hard breath through his nose, then says, “So what do you want to know? Is it really worse this way? No, it’s not. No way would I have wished that on myself as a kid. My daddy hated me enough as it was, just for bein’ me. Don’t let anyone make you feel sorry for them because they’re a grown-ass man and too scared to come out. That’s bullshit.” Raylan felt old shame rush up through him, and it made him feel angry, but the anger had nowhere to go. It was all aimed at himself. 

He took a few breaths before continuing, and when he spoke his voice was calm again. “I waited a real long time, though,” he says, “longer than most. Longer than I should have. I thought I needed a reason, and that I didn’t have one until Boyd came around, but I was wrong about both things. It wasn’t any kind of way to live. I was unhappy, and that’s all the reason I should have needed. And Tim? He’s too old for this nonsense too. Don’t worry, I’m on it. I’m gonna make it my personal mission to drag him out of whatever closet he’s hiding in. Okay? I promise.”

Neil looks at him for a second, then throws his arms around his neck and hugs him. Raylan pats him awkwardly on the back until he pulls away, sniffling. He looks up to see Boyd standing in the doorway, watching them. Neil notices him too, and he says, “I think I’ll go eat dinner by myself tonight. You guys should have some time to yourselves. I’m sorry for fucking up your Valentine’s Day with my ridiculous drama.”

Boyd huffs a laugh and says, “I’m pretty sure that was the most enjoyable Valentine’s Day ever. What do you think, Raylan?”

“Definitely.” He grins and says, “It was so full of erotic tension and romance. Like that book I caught Rachel with a couple weeks ago, with the beautiful black man on the cover and a bunch of roses all around him. Just like that.” 

Neil stares at him for a second, as if he’s not sure Raylan is joking. Then he laughs loudly, too hard, like he needs it. Raylan smiles and pats him on the shoulder, then gets up. Boyd follows him into the kitchen and doesn’t say anything as he gets himself a glass of water and drinks most of it down. 

Finally, Raylan raises his eyebrows at him and says, “What?”

Boyd shrugs slowly, gracefully, and just keeps watching him. 

“You’re being weird, Boyd. Did I say something you thought was wrong?”

Boyd shakes his head, then says, “I just... I’m sorry for all those years, Raylan. I wish we could have... I wish I could have helped you sooner.”

Raylan’s mouth draws down into a thin line. “Don’t say that, Boyd. It was my fault. It wasn’t your job to fix me. I’m sorry I made it your job. That wasn’t right.”

“Still,” Boyd says, reaching out for him. “I didn’t mind, really. Once I knew you were for real.”

Raylan smiles at him, and he knows it looks a little sad, but it’s a real one too. “I know,” he says, and walks into his arms. 

“So what are you gonna say to Tim, anyway? Are you really going to try to shame him out of the closet?”

“Not shame him, no. I’ll annoy him until he comes out. You know how I can be, Boyd.”

Boyd’s mouth twists up in a smile that’s trying to be disapproving, but failing miserably. “I do, yes. I’m sure that will be quite effective.”


	3. What You Fear Most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim comes around.
> 
> Also, did I mention that Raylan and Boyd are really into each other?

Tim is already at his desk when Raylan gets to work on Monday. He looks up and says, "Morning," as Raylan passes, and Raylan responds in kind. 

Art calls him in to let him know that the fugitive he'd been looking for had been apprehended outside of Wichita over the weekend, and that he needs to take a conference call with a guy from the Kansas State Troopers and someone from the FBI and get everyone up to speed. 

That takes most of the morning, and he finishes up just as Tim is walking out the door for lunch. He catches up with him by the elevator and says, "We're having lunch. I'll buy."

Tim looks at him like a deer in headlights for a second, then says, "I really don't have time today. I was just going to get fast food."

"Well, tough shit. Make the time, I need to talk to you."

Tim shakes his head in frustration and steps into the elevator. "There's nothing to talk about, Raylan."

"I disagree," he replies. 

They ride down to the lobby and Raylan follows him out to his car. Tim stands next to the drivers side door and glares at him. He says, "How about you mind your own business? Normally you couldn't give two shits about my life, suddenly you want to lecture me or something about how I conduct myself? I don't think so."

He opens the door and climbs in, locking the passenger side, and drives off. Raylan fumes, then stalks back into the building. 

Tim avoids him the rest of the day, leaving early after going in to talk to Art for a minute, presumably giving him some manufactured excuse. Rachel frowns after him, then walks over to lean on Raylan's desk.

"What's his problem?" she asks.

"I have no idea," Raylan lies, though he's tempted to tell her exactly what his problem is. "Tell me something," he says, "Does he ever talk to you about personal shit? Girlfriends or whatever?"

"Are you kidding?" Rachel laughs. "That boy is a closed book. Not everyone's private life is a huge drama the way yours is, Raylan."

"Right," he says, nodding. "Well, I was just wondering if that was what's going on with him."

Raylan stays late finishing things up, then drives straight to Tim's place. If the man thinks he's going to give up after one try, he obviously has not been paying attention. 

Tim answers the door in sweatpants and a tshirt, and he looks more ragged than Raylan has ever seen. He's obviously been drinking, and when he sees who's at the door, his face hardens. 

"I thought you were the pizza guy," he says. 

Raylan has to bite his tongue not to make the obvious joke, but says, "Sorry. But I wouldn't mind a slice when he gets here." More jokes come to mind, but he resists. 

"Raylan, why can't you leave this alone?" He's whining, and Raylan thinks maybe that means he's starting to break.

"I just want to talk to you. I'll leave you alone after that, I swear." 

He's lying, of course, but Tim sighs and opens the door. "You want a beer or something?" he asks.

"I won't say no." He walks into Tim's apartment and sits on the couch. The place is tidy, but it looks strangely unlived in. 

Tim hands him a beer and starts to sit down, when another knock comes at the door. "Hopefully that's my food and not another nosy motherfucker." He answers and pays for the pizza, then throws it on the coffee table. "Help yourself," he says, grabbing a slice.

Raylan doesn't take one yet, just sits and looks at Tim for a minute. 

"I thought you had something to say," Tim says around a mouthful of pizza. 

"Listen here, Tim," he starts, "I had no intention of involving myself in your personal business. That ain't my style, you know that. I knew you were drinking too much - hell, everyone knows that - but I figured that was for you to handle. But this... I know something about it, you know."

"There's nothing to know." Tim's expression is closed off, completely. "I was depressed, I got drunk and did something I regret. It was a mistake and a one time thing, and it doesn't mean anything. I get why you think it might, but you're wrong. I'm- I'm real sorry that your friend had to be involved in it. That was shitty and thoughtless, and I apologized. That's the end of it. Can you please just let it be?"

Raylan takes a slice of pizza and eats the whole thing before he speaks. Tim looks incredibly annoyed with him, but doesn't seem to have anything to add, so he waits.

Finally, Raylan says, "I can let it be. Because I'm actually happy for once in my miserable fucking life. Eventually, Neil is going to go back to Virginia, and I'll have my life and my boyfriend back. So sure, I can let it be. Maybe you should ask yourself if you can."

He stands and brushes his hands off on his pants. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tim," he says, then he leaves.

For the rest of the week, Tim does his best to act like everything is fine. Raylan even thinks he might be drinking less, because he looks better at work than he has for awhile. 

Raylan knows what he promised Neil, but in truth he's not really sure what else to say. He's pretty sure if he pushes him anymore, Tim's going to try to kick his ass. 

Boyd comes up on Wednesday, without Neil in tow. He has supper in the oven when Raylan gets home from work, and is drinking a glass of wine on the sofa. Raylan tosses his hat on the table by the door and sits next to him.

"Hey," Boyd says with a smile. 

"Hey," Raylan answers, lifting his face for a kiss. 

"I brought some movies if you want to watch one later," Boyd says.

"Alright," Raylan says. "Do we have time for anything before dinner?"

"We do," Boyd says, setting down his glass and climbing onto his lap. Raylan takes him by the waist and smiles up at him, lets him do whatever he might feel like doing. He can't think of a single thing that Boyd might want to do that he'd object to, anyway. 

Raylan ends up fucking him right there on the couch, and when the oven timer beeps the second he starts coming, he can feel Boyd's body shaking with laughter. He pulls out, grins down at him and says, "I guess that means I'm done." 

"I don't think so, son," Boyd says, and grabs a handful of his hair. Raylan gives him a blow job that's over pretty quickly, then Boyd gets up to take the food out. 

Over dinner, Raylan relates his conversation with Tim, and how he's been acting since then. He asks, "You got any ideas for me? Because, I'm kinda stumped. I could talk until my face is blue, but he's dug in."

Boyd shrugs. "Maybe there's nothing you can do. He has the right to say whatever he wants about himself. Don't mean you gotta pretend to believe him, though."

"I ain't."

Boyd nods. "Maybe tell him that one more time. Then leave it alone, I guess. It's his life."

The next morning Raylan lets himself oversleep, then takes his time giving Boyd a proper send off. He calls on his way in to work, apologizing for his faulty alarm clock. Art knows perfectly well that Boyd comes to town on Wednesday, and he calls him an asshole. 

As luck would have it, Art puts Raylan and Tim on a property seizure in Danville. Tim doesn't say a word on the way to the car, and once they're inside - Raylan driving - he starts rifling through the file and talking about the guy they're probably going to be dealing with.

"Yeah, I got all that shit when Art was telling us, just now," Raylan says.

Tim shuts up then and looks out the window. They drive in silence for awhile, then Raylan says, "I never told you about the night I ran into Boyd in Richmond, did I?"

"No," Tim says shortly, "Why would you?"

"Oh, I don't know. I didn't because I didn't want to talk about any of that shit. I thought it was something to be embarrassed about. But I really would have liked to tell someone, because it was the biggest goddamn thing that ever happened to me. I was so fucked up about it."

"Raylan, what are you tr-"

"Hush," Raylan says. "We got a little ways to drive, and we might as well talk about something. Unless you got something of interest to say, I'm gonna tell my story."

"Fine," Tim huffs, still staring out the window.

"I used to go out and pick up guys when I was out of town. I couldn't do it in Lexington 'cause, like I said, I was embarrassed. Or thought it would complicate things too much. Whatever. I didn't know how to talk about it to people, didn't want to."

"I get it, Raylan," Tim says, "Move on."

"Yeah. Well, you know how me and Boyd go way back."

"Rings a faint bell. Something about his daddy wanting you dead," Tim says. Raylan's already sick of listening to him.

"That's right, he replies patiently. "He wanted me dead because he thought we were already fucking. I'm guessing a fair number of people thought that, because I'm pretty sure it was fairly obvious we wanted to be. To everyone but us."

"You really know how to tell a story, Raylan, let me tell you."

"Will you shut up? Listen. So there I am, 39 years old, reduced to looking for anonymous cock in a strange city-"

" _Jesus,_ Raylan."

"Look, I'm just trying to say how it was. You might as well know what a low point I was at. I justified it to myself all the time, even thought it wasn't really a problem because hey, I like women too, and eventually I'd find one I wanted to stay with and I wouldn't want to do that anymore. So I figured I was biding my time. I didn't even realize how much I hated myself, because it was like I was two different people."

Tim is sitting very still, and Raylan can tell he's listening, even if he doesn't want to.

He goes on, "Boyd walked into that bar at what seems to me now to be the last possible second, my last chance. Maybe that's bullshit, I don't know. And even then, I fought it, even though it was Boyd and I only had to see him to know that I could love him again. But I had no real strength left to fight it, and I finally understood that I had no reason to."

"That's good, man. Good for you," Tim mumbles.

"It was good for me. But mostly, it was pure, blind fucking luck. I had no right to get that lucky. _No one_ gets that lucky."

Raylan feels a little wrung out from saying all that, so he just drives on. Maybe Tim took what he'd intended from the story, and maybe not, but he thinks he's said everything he can think of to get through. Tim is still watching the scenery.

On the ride back, Tim surprises him by asking him what Boyd thought of how he was living his life at the time they met in Richmond. He tries to keep that out of his voice when he answers.

"He didn't trust me for a long time," Raylan says. "Can't say I blame him, but... he wasn't exactly in a great place either. Just because he was being honest with himself in one way, don't mean that was true of all parts of his life. It's not like there ain't a million ways to be fucked up."

"I know that's true," Tim says. He sighs. "I do drink too much. I decided to cut back."

"Well, that's a start," Raylan replies. At least Tim is talking to him again. 

Friday passes very slowly, but at least it feels less awkward with Tim now. For whatever reason, he seems to have calmed down and decided not to hate Raylan. 

He ends up having to stay late to finish some paperwork - and it pisses him off, because he's pretty sure this is Art's revenge for him being late on Thursday -and when he finally gets to Harlan, it's completely dark. The house looks welcoming, though, the windows on the first floor glowing.

He comes in quietly and walks through to find Boyd on the patio, steam coming from his mouth in the cold air.

"What are you doin' out here?" he asks, frowning. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine. It's just I'm about at the end of my patience over having an extra person in the house. It's not him, he didn't do anything. Just, you know."

"I do," he says, bending down for a kiss. "Did you ask him when he's leaving?"

"I couldn't figure out how to do it without letting him know I want him to leave."

Raylan laughs. "He most likely already knows that. He's probably waiting for you to say something. You want me to do it?"

"Why yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

He starts to bring it up over dinner, beginning with an awkward, "So! Neil, ah..."

Neil cuts him off by saying, "I'm leaving tomorrow, Raylan. Don't worry, I won't ruin another weekend for you."

Raylan starts to protest - mildly, because he doesn't want him to change his mind - but Neil says, "It's okay. It's been really helpful coming here, and I'll be fine. You guys have done enough."

"You're welcome any time," Boyd says, and Raylan sort of cuts his eyes at him. 

They're clearing the table when a text comes in on Neil's phone. He glances at it, and his eyes get big. Another one comes in right after, and he makes a face like he wants to start crying, then just keeps staring at the screen. 

Raylan keeps clearing the dishes, but Boyd goes over to him and takes the phone out of his hand. He looks at the texts, and brings the phone to Raylan. 

They're from Tim, and the first one says, _I'm a liar. And I'm sorry._

The second one says _I'm in Harlan. Hope you're still there. Need to see you._

"Well... shit," Raylan says. He holds the phone out to Neil, who takes it like it might be radioactive. "I guess your duckling is back."

"Oh Raylan! I can't- What am I going to do about this? I can't take him on, Jesus Christ."

Boyd is grinning at him, and he says, "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. But I think, if you want, you could maybe... give him a little encouragement. If that's something you feel like doing."

Neil puts his hand on his hip and gives Boyd a _look._ "You think I should try to push him out of the closet with my dick?" 

"It's the most effective tool at our disposal, kid," he says with a wink. "Just be honest with him."

"Should I?" Neil has a silly grin on his face, and he's frowning at the same time. "God, I bet that would be fun. But... oh, I don't know! What if he freaks out again?"

Raylan says, "So what? You're leaving tomorrow. Right?"

Another text comes in then, and after Neil reads it he looks up and says, "He's here. He's out front."

"Well, he's your guest, kid," Raylan says, "Go on."

Neil squeezes his eyes shut for a second, then takes a deep breath and goes out the door. 

"Would it be terrible to watch through the window?" Boyd asks.

Raylan doesn't answer, because he's already pulling the living room curtain aside and peeking out. "They're just talking in the car right now," he offers. 

"What did you say to him, Raylan? It must have been effective."

Raylan looks back at Boyd and says, "I told him about you, baby."

Boyd comes up behind him and wraps an arm around his waist. He kisses his neck and says, "Is that right? And that's all it took?"

"I may have employed some scare tactics about being middle-aged and still trying to cruise the bars. But mostly you." He runs a hand over Boyd's arm, drawing goosebumps. "Look, they're kissing. We should go away. Tim doesn't want to see us right now."

"I'm surprised you don't want to hang around and give him a hard time."

Raylan turns to look at Boyd, cocks his head almost sheepishly, and says, "Not yet. Although he does sort of deserve it, after being such a fucking hypocrite about it. 'If you just told everyone you liked dudes from the start,' he says. What an asshole."

"He must have been talking to himself," Boyd muses.

"Guess so." Raylan reaches up to Boyd's face and brushes his hand back over his hair. "Come on," he says, pulling him away.

"Where should we go?" Boyd asks softly. 

"Well, I was thinking maybe I could use a little more _encouragement._ You know. With your dick."

Boyd grins with his head thrown back, like a silent laugh. 

Raylan stops in the kitchen for a bottle and two glasses, then runs up the stairs to their room, where Boyd is waiting. They stay up there for the rest of the evening, and after awhile they hear footsteps and whispers in the hall outside the door. 

Tim is gone by the time they get up in the morning, and Neil is working his phone in the kitchen. 

"Morning!" the boy says brightly as they come in. "I made coffee."

Boyd pours them each a cup and hands Raylan's to him. They sit and look expectantly at Neil. He just sits there looking like a cat with a full mouth and feathers in his teeth. 

"I presume all went well, then," Boyd says, quirking his eyebrow at the boy.

"Not what you could call smoothly, but a shit ton of fun," he says, grinning. 

"He sure high-tailed it outta here," Raylan says.

"He didn't want to take any shit from you, Raylan. Thought you might be a little smug, can't imagine why." 

Raylan sips at his coffee and adopts an innocent demeanor. "It was my idea to make ourselves scarce last night, I'll have you know. Boyd here wanted to watch you fool around in the car, but I said that wouldn't be respectful. And by the way, kid, I gotta say I really appreciate how you've begun to let me see the asshole side of your personality. Makes me feel all warm inside." 

Neil grins, and Boyd laughs. "Now you understand. You thought he was some kinda fuzzy baby chick. I tried to tell you."

Neil gets his stuff packed up after breakfast, and gets on his way by a little past ten. He hugs both of them goodbye, and tells Raylan, "Don't be too mean, but I think maybe Tim did earn himself a little bit of shit from you."

"Will do," Raylan says. "Bye, kid. Drive safe."

Raylan and Boyd spend the rest of the weekend doing absolutely nothing, just like Raylan wanted. Boyd doesn't even cook, they just go out for barbecue and scrounge in the fridge for snacks. 

Raylan stays over until early Monday morning, and he finds it very difficult to drag himself back to Lexington. He'd like to use up a few of his banked personal days, but Boyd wants to take a vacation in the summer, so he can't do that. 

From his desk, Raylan sees Tim come into the office, glance over at him and sit down. He has no idea how this is going to go, or what Tim is planning to do. At least he seems to have decided not to lie to himself anymore, and that's good, but what he's going to tell everyone else remains to be seen. 

He goes through a file to refresh his memory about a case he's supposed to be testifying in the following week, then makes a phone call. When all that is done, he saunters over and sits on the edge of Tim's desk. 

Tim eyes him narrowly and says, "If you're here to gloat, please just get it over with, Raylan."

"Well now, I ain't sure if I want to gloat, or if I want to extend my sincere congratulations and offer my counsel to you if you should need it. Which one would make you more uncomfortable?" Raylan has a sharp grin and a gleam in his eyes that's more Boyd than him. 

"I'm fairly sure you know damn well what the answer is," Tim says, but there's no bite to it. He looks tired and hungover.

"The offer is a real one, Tim. You want to talk, ask me. I ain't gonna promise to be all tea and sympathy with you, but I know this shit."

"Raylan, I don't know. Can you- I need you to keep this to yourself for- for now. Please." He looks seriously worried, and feels sort of bad. 

"Tim, what do you think? I'm gonna get out in front of this? It's your business. I already said what I had to say on the subject."

Tim snorts harshly and says, "Yeah, right. Like you weren't going to keep pestering me week after week."

Raylan grins and goes back to his desk. 

Weeks go by, and Tim says nothing to anyone at work, and doesn't take Raylan up on his offer, not that he's surprised by that. Neil told Boyd that they're in semi-regular contact, through texts, but he refused to offer any details. 

Boyd calls Raylan during lunch on a Friday and says, "Baby, I was thinking I'd come up there this weekend instead of you coming down. How would that be?"

Raylan's eyebrows go up, but he says, "Sure. Any particular reason?"

Boyd replies, "I thought we could go out for dinner and then for drinks at that bar we went to with Neil. Or, we can go somewhere else if you'd rather, I don't care."

"No," Raylan says. "That's a good idea. I'd love to."

"Okay then," he says, "I'll be there when you get off."

"Well, I certainly hope so," Raylan says, laughing through Boyd's groan. 

The weather is unseasonably warm for early March, and Raylan wears only a t-shirt with his jeans. He knows Boyd loves that, because he can’t keep his hands off of his arms. They eat at a Mexican restaurant, and Boyd keeps leaning across the table to touch them. Raylan doesn’t even tease him about it, because it makes him feel so good, and he doesn’t want it to stop. 

The bar is crowded already, when they arrive, even though it’s early still. Raylan thinks it must be the weather. Boyd looks around for a place to sit, and he says, “Baby, I think you should get the drinks while I try to find a spot somewhere for us. I bet the bartenders always notice you. Specially in that shirt.” Raylan smiles and shrugs at him, then heads over there. 

Boyd is not wrong, and Raylan has two bourbons in his hands in no time. He casts his eyes all around the room, looking for Boyd, and when he finds him he’s not alone. He’s talking to tall, blond James, and laughing about something. Raylan wonders if he should be slightly unfriendly, in solidarity with Neil, but the man has dark blue eyes and the hands of a carpenter, so he figures he’ll just let it go. He gives Raylan a big, white smile as he approaches, and says, “I can’t believe you haven’t called.”

“Yeah, well, some shit went down that night that kind of drove it from my head. Still got your number, though.” Boyd gives him a look like that’s news to him. Raylan could have swear he’d mentioned it. Raylan just gives him a cool look back, and Boyd’s eyes spark with laughter and something else. He’s pretty sure he’ll never call, but he sort of likes knowing he could, if he wanted. If Boyd asked him to, he would.

James asks Boyd about Harlan, and is somewhat fascinated - as people tend to be - about their relationship’s origin story. He says it’s romantic, and Raylan rolls his eyes. “Everyone says that. I’d just as soon have found Boyd without walking through all the fucking broken glass to get there.”

“Raylan.” Boyd’s voice comes out slightly hushed, and he touches Raylan’s arm. 

Raylan frowns at him. “What?”

“Look. Over there, by the bar.”

Raylan looks, and he sees the back of a wavy head of hair, and a slim, ramrod-straight back. Raylan’s face opens into a wide, pleased grin. 

“What?” James asks. “Who’s that?”

“Just a fluffy baby duckling,” Raylan says, still grinning. “Newly hatched.”

Tim gets his drink and turns around, his face freezing into a mortified mask when he catches sight of them. He looks like he wants to bolt, but of course he can’t do that without looking like an asshole, so he makes his way over to them, walking with a stiff gait.

Boyd puts a hand on his shoulder as he comes to stand next to him. Tim looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but he says, “Hey Boyd. Raylan.”

“Timothy, it is such a pleasure to see you here this evening,” he says in a theatrical voice. Raylan wants to laugh, but half of that is just from being in such a good fucking mood tonight, and then seeing Tim here. He can’t quite say why he cares enough for that to make him happy, but it does. Boyd is still talking, saying, “This is our brand new friend James. James, this is Timothy Gutterson. He’s a deputy U.S. Marshal, works in Raylan’s office.”

“Tim is fine,” Tim says quickly, holding out his hand to shake. James takes it and squeezes it more than shakes it. 

“You’re Marshals?” James’ eyes grow round and intrigued. “I didn’t know that, Raylan. That’s... wow, so there are two gay Marshals in the Lexington field office?”

“Well,” Raylan says, thinking to correct him on the technicality, but decides not to bother. “Yeah. Although our boss is not yet aware of that fact. That should make for an interesting conversation.” He laughs sharply, and says to Tim, “He’s gonna take a lot of crap from the other offices over that, I bet. I bet we’ll get a nickname.”

James looks at Raylan, surprised. “You’re not out at work? You don’t seem like the type.”

“I don’t?” Raylan says. “That’s good to hear. But it ain’t me, it’s him.”

“Oh,” James replies, “I guessed you, because...”

The side of Raylan’s mouth pulls up in a sardonic smile, and he says, “Because I’m old. Yeah, that’s great. But anyway, I wasn’t until recently either. Me and Timmy are just late bloomers, I suppose.”

“Well,” James says in a tone that’s obviously trying to be polite, “I guess you guys work in a kind of, um, traditionally masculine job. I can see where that might be a tough thing to do.”

Raylan doesn’t say anything, figures it’s Tim’s business whether he wants to tell the guy that he wasn’t even out to himself until a few weeks ago. 

Boyd is looking at him like he’s trying to send a message, and Raylan doesn’t get what it is until he notices the way Tim is standing now, no longer like he’s in front of a firing squad, but loose and leaning very slightly forward, towards James. And he’s smiling, or close enough to it.

“Can you guys excuse us for a minute?” Raylan asks. “There’s someone I want to say hi to over there.”

They pull away and move into a corner where they can’t see the two men. Boyd looks at him for a second, then moves in for a fierce kiss, squeezing his bicep at the same time. 

When he pulls back a little, Raylan asks, “What was that for?”

“Every time I think I have you figured out, you do something that makes me love you more.”

Raylan shakes his head in confusion. “But what did I do? I didn’t mean to do anything. I figured you loved me plenty already.”

“You’re so happy for him,” Boyd says. 

Raylan smiles a little, but he doesn’t quite see anything surprising there. “Of course I am, Boyd. You think I’d want to watch the boy drown himself in bourbon and self-loathing? I am a human being, you know, Jesus Christ.”

“And you didn’t tell that guy you’re bi.”

“Well, I still am. I just didn’t see the point of... making a point of it. Now I think of it, though, maybe I should have. I am contributing to bisexual invisibility as we speak.”

“And you kept the number, Raylan.”

Raylan feels uncomfortably like he might be blushing, and he says, “Just in case you wanted it.” Then he feels like a chickenshit asshole, and he says, “In case I wanted it too.”

“And you look hot as fuck in that t-shirt. I mean, like a goddamn bonfire. I’d like to suck your cock right here, right now.”

Raylan leans in with a leering smile and says, “Well, there’s always the bathroom.”


End file.
